


Rickyl: 30-Day OTP Challenge

by ASkyFullOfBetterAngels



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Angst, Fluff, M/M, One Shot Collection, Possible smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-08-27 09:03:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16699492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASkyFullOfBetterAngels/pseuds/ASkyFullOfBetterAngels
Summary: Just a bunch of Rickyl one-shots for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Will take place during many different eras, so expect a little back-and-forth as the challenge goes on. Some chapters might not be posted right away. Enjoy! Feedback would be greatly appreciated. :)





	1. Day 1: Getting lost somewhere

“Grimes, I swear,” Daryl growled under his breath, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. Rick swallowed nervously; though the two were not looking at each other, Rick could sense the unmistakable fury emanating from the archer from where he sat in the passenger seat. _Well, shit,_ the ex-officer thought to himself, biting the inside of his cheek.

“How the hell’d ya lose the damn map?” Daryl groaned, exasperatedly burying his face in his hands.

Rick sighed. “If I knew that, we‘d be on our way back.”

Daryl shook his head, then began scanning their surroundings. He’d stopped the pickup truck on the side of a road that seemingly stretched through the middle of nowhere. They were surrounded by nothing but vast, barren fields, the buildings they’d left behind a distant memory. “Can’t fuckin’ believe ya sometimes, man,” the archer muttered in reply.

“We can trace our way back to the town somehow,” Rick began hopefully. “We’ll find another map there. My walkie’s dead, but if we can find batteries, I can tell Michonne what’s going on. She’ll know what to do if we can’t find our way back on our own.”

There was a long moment of silence between the two. Daryl cleared his throat. “We ain’t got much daylight left,” he pointed out.

Rick nodded. “Yeah, I know. We’ll find somewhere to hole up for the night. There’s gotta be somethang there.”

Daryl reached over and turned his key through the ignition, starting up the truck. However, he made no move to turn it around. He simply sat in silence, staring at the floor with a crestfallen expression. Rick reached over and squeezed the archer’s shoulder supportively. “I promise, we’ll get back,” he reassured him.

“Yeah, I know.”

Another long silence. Rick frowned a bit. “I’m sorry for getting us lost.”

Daryl glanced over at the ex-officer, the corners of his lips turning up just enough to be considered a smile. “Can’t stay mad at you,” he said softly. “Now c’mere, dumbass.” Grinning, Rick leaned forward and pressed his lips to Daryl’s, giving a sigh of contentment as the other man’s hand carded through his damp curls. It was short and sweet and familiar, and when they broke apart, Rick was able to witness Daryl smiling--really _smiling_ \--for the first time in weeks.

“Now let’s get the hell outta here.”


	2. Day 2: Pet names

Daryl stopped dead in his tracks just a stone's throw from his motorcycle and whirled around in surprise. His eyebrows raised in question, and he opened his mouth to say something in reply to Rick, but he couldn't seem to form the words to do so. Rick had the most innocuous expression plastered to his face, as if the word he'd uttered to cause such bewilderment had never slipped past his lips. Daryl narrowed his eyes. "What'd you jus' call me?"

 "Hmm? Angel?" Rick replied nonchalantly. "There something wrong with that?"

 "Naw, ain't nothin' wrong with it," Daryl muttered. "Why, though?"

 "Why not?"

 Daryl crossed his arms. "You ain't never called me anythin' but my name."

 Rick chuckled, stepping closer to Daryl and placing a hand on the archer's waist. "I know," he began with a smile, "but you're like my angel. It's really just a stupid pet name, but I think it suits you."

 "Christ, that's cheesier than hell," Daryl remarked with a low, rough-sounding laugh. "I ain't complainin', though. Guess I gotta come up with one for you now, huh?"

 Rick laughed, shaking his head. "Maybe so," he replied, stepping closer into the archer's embrace. "Good luck on your run, angel."

 Daryl pressed a gentle kiss to Rick's forehead, lightly patting the man on the back. "Thanks..." he trailed off, a smug look spreading across his face.  _"...Dick Grimes."_


	3. Day 3: Patching each other up

 

"Fuckin' stings like hell," Daryl said with a grimace as Rick held the alcohol-soaked rag firmly to the long, narrow gash on his arm. The two sat in silence, not daring to speak of the events of that day. The two had been out on a supply run gone bad, during which a herd of walkers had surprised them. Miraculously, they'd made it out with only a few minor injuries, but it had been a close call nevertheless.  _Too close,_ Daryl thought to himself with a shudder as he recalled what had occurred on the run.

 

_"Rick!" Daryl shouted, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder as he stumbled toward the fallen ex-officer, whose face was twisted in agony. The archer glanced over to see that Rick's foot had caught on a stray tree root, twisting his ankle and undoubtedly rendering him immobile._ Shit,  _Daryl thought as the menacing snarls and moans of the approaching walkers drew nearer,_ shit shit shit shit shit.  _Daryl dropped to the ground and hauled Rick onto his feet, taking his arm and pulling it around his shoulders. "We gotta get outta here," Daryl grunted, allowing Rick to cling onto him as he began to half-guide, half-drag the leader through the dense, unforgiving forest ahead of them._

_Thorns scratched at Daryl's arms as he and Rick stumbled through the underbrush, making him wince. The walkers were approaching fast. Daryl's heart hammered. They had to get back to the truck. Where the hell had they left the truck?! Panting, the archer began walking faster, tightening his hold on Rick. He suppressed a cry of pain as a low tree branch scraped against his bicep. He could feel warm blood slipping down his arm, but he refused to let it distract him. No, he had to keep going, had to get Rick safe..._

 

"Daryl," Rick suddenly spoke, snapping Daryl back to reality. The archer looked up expectantly, waiting for him to say something more. Rick shook his head. "You don't need to worry about me now. We made it back."

Daryl nodded, glancing briefly at Rick's bandaged ankle. "Yeah, I know," he murmured. "It's jus'...it was a damn close call."

"Yeah, it was," Rick said, brushing Daryl's bangs out of his face with his free hand, "but we're here now, aren't we?"

Daryl gazed deep into Rick's hypnotic blue eyes, feeling a pang of emotion within him. He bit the inside of his cheek. "I don' wanna lose ya, Rick," he croaked, eyes filling up with tears.

 

_"Up there," Rick gasped suddenly, pointing. The road where the old pickup truck was parked was just up ahead, barely visible through the trees. Daryl started towards it, blood roaring in his ears. Just a little further, he told himself._

_The walkers were just behind them now. Daryl could hear their deafening moans, could practically feel their hot breath on the back of his neck. He didn't dare look back until Rick let out a cry of alarm from beside him._

 

"You're not going to lose me," Rick reassured Daryl, carding his fingers soothingly through his long locks. "I'm not going anywhere for a long time, I promise you." Daryl nodded, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. When Rick held his arms out to him, he instantly melted into his embrace.

 

_"Fuck!" Without a second of hesitation, Daryl plunged his knife into the skull of the walker that had latched its filthy hands onto Rick's arm. The two could only stand there in shock for a fleeting moment before starting forward again. At last, they stumbled out into the road, desperately making their way towards the truck. When they reached it, Daryl flung open the passenger door and practically threw Rick inside, bolting in after him and slamming the door shut. Frantically, he climbed into the driver's seat, started up the truck, and slammed on the gas pedal._

 

"You're not going to lose me," Rick repeated as he and Daryl embraced.

A long pause.

"I love you," Rick said softly.

Daryl hesitated for a moment, then drew in a shaky breath. "Love ya too," he whispered in reply, his voice almost inaudible.

Rick pressed a kiss to Daryl's cheek, the ghost of a smile lighting up his face. "I'm not going anywhere."


	4. Day 4: Hospital visits

When Daryl regained consciousness at last, he instantly became aware of the pain that assaulted his head. He winced slightly, biting back a groan. He blinked his eyes open, only to be greeted by the overwhelmingly bright light that radiated from the lamp beside the bed he was sprawled on, prompting him to squeeze them shut again.

"Are you awake?"

Rick's voice. Daryl's heart fluttered a bit. "Yeah, I'm up," he rasped in reply. He forced his eyes open again, and this time, Rick was there looking back at him. The ex-officer offered a faint smile, but Daryl could see the worry in his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" Rick asked tenderly.

Daryl sighed. "Like shit."

"I see you're awake," a third voice said, and Daryl glanced up to see Siddiq entering the room. "That's good to see. You were out for longer than expected."

"Peachy," Daryl muttered. "Anyone mind tellin' me why the hell I'm here? Wherever here is?"

"You're at the Hilltop infirmary. You wiped out on your motorcycle, Daryl," Siddiq explained.

Daryl took a moment to process this information. "Is it okay?" he asked, turning to Rick.

Rick nodded. "I saw Aaron ride it through the gates earlier."

Daryl sighed in relief, allowing his head to fall back on the pillow. Siddiq came forward, handing Daryl a bottle of water and some painkillers. "From what I gather, you've got a concussion," Siddiq said as Daryl took the pills. "It'll be a while before you're one hundred percent again, but I must say, you're very lucky. This could've been a lot worse."

Daryl set the bottle aside. "Still hurts like hell."

Siddiq nodded. "Some rest will do you good," he said, then turned to Rick. "I have other patients to tend to, but you're welcome to stay with him if you'd like."

"Thank you," Rick said. Siddiq nodded again, then turned and left the room. Rick turned to Daryl, reaching over to card his fingers through his hair. His fingers brushed over the bandages that were wrapped around the archer's head, covering his wound, and he frowned. "I'm sorry this happened to you," he said softly.

"Ain't your fault," Daryl grunted. "'S my own fault for bein' a dumbass while I was ridin'."

Rick smiled, making Daryl's heart skip a beat. "You're not a dumbass," Rick said. "Shit happens. I'm just glad you're not too badly hurt...or worse." His smile faltered, and he averted his eyes from the archer's, his expression turning grave. Daryl reached over and squeezed his hand reassuringly, albeit quite feebly. "I'm still kickin', man," he murmured.

There was a long moment of silence between the two. Rick leaned in slowly, pushing Daryl's bangs out of his face, and pressed their lips together. Daryl melted into the kiss immediately, giving a sigh of contentment as Rick's mouth moved against his own. When they broke apart, Rick's pale blue eyes were filled with tears. "I don't know what I'd've done," he said softly, his voice breaking.

"It didn't happen," Daryl said, shaking his head. He winced a bit when his head throbbed, but he did his best to ignore the pain. "'M still here."

Rick couldn't bring himself to say anything more. He pressed a gentle kiss to Daryl's forehead, fisting a hand into his shirt and not letting go. Daryl closed his eyes. "Still here," he repeated, "still here, Rick." he trailed off, feeling himself slowly begin to slip out of consciousness again.  _Damn painkillers,_ he thought to himself. Before everything went dark, he drew in a deep breath and whispered to Rick, "Ain't goin' nowhere."

Rick pulled away, a single tear streaming from his eye. "Neither am I."


	5. Day 5: Scar worship

Daryl had been through all sorts of hell throughout his life, both pre- and post-apocalypse. However, the former proved to be far more physically evident, hence the abundance of markings that littered his back. Though, being the stoic man he was, he had learned to ignore the memories he had of the immeasurable agony and emotional turmoil that came with growing up with the ruthless Will Dixon, the scars remained through the years as a permanent reminder of what he'd been through. Only Will himself and Daryl's older brother Merle had ever seen the scars, as he insisted on covering them up at all times for fear that people would see him as nothing more than his past.

Until now.

Here Daryl was, standing with his exposed back to Rick, his skin illuminated by the pale moonlight that streamed in through their bedroom window in their Alexandrian home. He absently tossed his shirt to the floor, head hung in shame, not daring to face the ex-officer. He registered the sound of Rick's footsteps as he drew nearer, then the sensation of a hand on his back for a fleeting instant before it was pulled away. A pang of regret brought tears to Daryl's eyes, for he knew that Rick would never see him the same way again.

"You told me about your dad," Rick murmured from behind him. "I didn't realize--" he paused, seemingly lost for words. A heavy silence filled the room.

Finally, Daryl lifted his head, turning to meet Rick's concerned blue eyes. "Y'don't have to say nothin'," he said, his voice breaking. "I don' want this to change what we got."

Rick shook his head, almost in disbelief. "This doesn't change anything, Daryl," he said softly, reaching over to place his hand on his lover's bare shoulder. "Your past is in the past. All that matters now is now."

Daryl said nothing in reply, simply standing there with his head hung low, tears streaming down his cheeks. Rick reached up and wiped them away with his thumbs, cupping Daryl's face gently in his hands. "I love you," he whispered, "I love you. I love all of you, Daryl, every inch of you."

Daryl let out a shaky breath, fisting his hands gently into Rick's shirt. "I love you too," he breathed.

Rick removed his hands from Daryl's face, bringing them behind the archer's back and letting them hover over his bare skin. He looked to Daryl for permission, and when he nodded his consent, he lowered his hands onto his lover's back. Daryl shivered at the sensation, not used to the feeling of another person touching him this way. He felt so...vulnerable. So incredibly exposed. But as Rick's hands moved over his rough, scarred skin, he found that he didn't mind. In the midst of it all, Rick's lips met Daryl's, and the archer found himself clinging onto his lover like he was his life support. Not letting go. Their lips moved perfectly in sync, warm and familiar and so, so close, while Rick's hands moved down Daryl's back and traced over every last one of his scars. Memorizing him. Worshipping him. Silently declaring through the dark of the night and the presence of each other,  _to me you are perfect._

When they broke apart at last, foreheads resting against each other, Daryl gazed into Rick's eyes and breathed out a soft, tear-filled "Thank you."

Rick could only smile.


	6. Day 6: Making fun of one another

The moment Rick stepped out onto the porch, Daryl froze where he was, eyes widening. "What the hell," he breathed in disbelief, unable to tear his gaze from the leader.

Rick narrowed his eyes. "Somethang wrong?"

"Naw, it ain't nothin', it's jus'...ya finally cut your damn hair 'n' shaved." Daryl gave a hoarse laugh. "Ya look like a different person."

Rick shook his head and smiled at his lover, coming forward to sit beside him on the steps. "Do I look good, at least?"

Daryl studied Rick, contemplating his inquiry for a moment. A smug grin spread across his face. "'M likin' it so far. Not gonna lie, ya kinda looked like a serial killer before," he finally replied, biting his lip to stifle a laugh.

Rick wasted no time thinking of a snappy comeback. He smirked, raising his eyebrows at Daryl. "Says the one who never showers and looks like a ripoff Kurt Cobain," he said cheekily.

Daryl looked confused. "Who the hell is that?"

Rick stared at Daryl for a long moment, squinting his eyes in incredulity. Finally, he shook his head, a smile turning up the corners of his lips. "Lead singer of Nirvana. You look like a ripoff of the guy."

Daryl narrowed his eyes. "Doesn' ring a bell for me, so I'unno if that's a good thing," he said, standing up, "but I'm gonna go take a fuckin' shower."

Rick burst out laughing at Daryl's reaction. "Hold on," he giggled after he caught his breath, standing up to block Daryl's path. He captured the archer's lips, kissing him long and hard, then pulled back with a smile. "Sorry, just wanted to steal one of those. You can go ahead now."

Daryl gave him a cheeky smile. "Ya kiss less like a serial killer, too."


	7. Day 7: The death of someone close

Rick knew Daryl blamed himself for Glenn’s death. He could see it in the way the archer tensed up whenever anyone said the Korean’s name, the way he fell silent and turned his gaze to the floor whenever the subject of _that night_ came up, the way he couldn’t look Maggie in the eye. Rick knew that Daryl was tearing himself apart over it, he knew he couldn’t get Glenn off his mind, and he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Though it broke his heart to see Daryl in the state he was in, he knew the man well; there would never be any way to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault. No matter how many times he or Maggie said it, Daryl would not achieve the closure he so desperately needed.

Rick knew he couldn’t convince Daryl that he wasn’t responsible for the death of their friend. He knew it, and he accepted it, but that didn’t stop him from trying to comfort the man in other ways. So he settled for moral support. When Daryl cried, he offered his shoulder. When he needed someone to just _listen,_ Rick never failed to do just that. He accompanied the archer to Glenn’s grave on the nights that he couldn’t keep himself away, where they sat in cold, heavy silence for hours, sometimes even until the first rays of sunlight began to creep their way up to the horizon.

Tonight was one of those nights. Daryl was knelt down in front the cross sticking up from the ground where they’d buried Glenn, head bowed, his dark locks falling into his face like a curtain. Rick briefly wondered if he was praying before the archer stood up beside him, still holding his head low, and turned away from the grave. Rick reached over to squeeze Daryl’s shoulder supportively, remaining silent as he did so.

Daryl looked up to the sky, illuminating his face in starlight that reflected in the tears that streamed down his face. He kept his gaze there for a long moment, then looked back down with a sigh. “I miss ‘im like hell, Rick.”

Rick nodded, moving closer to Daryl’s side to put an arm around his shoulders. “I know,” he said softly, “I do too. We all do.”

“Wouldn’ be missin’ ‘im if I’d jus’ kept my damn cool… _that night._ ”

Rick felt a pang of sorrow deep within him, knowing he could not say anything to object. Not a word Rick said would ever reassure him. So the ex-officer stood there in helpless silence, arm draped over the archer’s shoulders, wanting more than anything to take all the weight off of them.

“I wanna kill Negan,” Daryl spoke suddenly, sending Rick’s train of thought to a skidding halt. The ex-officer looked back at him in shock, then gave a slow nod.

Daryl hung his head. “I jus’ want all this to be over.”

Rick nodded again. “Me too.”

Moments later, a sob shook Daryl’s shoulders, and Rick instantly pulled him into his embrace. He held the archer as he cried, cried for Glenn, cried for everything that had happened _that night._ And in that moment, he knew everything needed to change for the sake of them all.

_One day,_ he promised Daryl silently as he pressed a kiss to his forehead, _one day, Daryl. It’ll all be over._

“One day.”

_I promise._


	8. Day 8: Sleeping in

When Rick awoke, the first thing he noticed was how unusually bright the bedroom was, with the sun filtering in through the curtains even more than it normally did. Of course, he registered the fact that he'd probably woken up hours later than he was supposed to. He knew there was work to be done around Alexandria, knew he needed to get up as soon as possible to start the day and do said work. But he simply didn't have the heart to disturb Daryl, and God, the archer just looked so damn peaceful with his head on Rick's chest as he slept. So he didn't. Instead, Rick stayed where he was, unable to keep the smile off his face as he gazed down at the sleeping love of his life.

Waking up before Daryl was a rare occurrence for Rick, and though it never lasted long, seeing the archer asleep always felt like the most special thing in the world to the ex-officer; it was like seeing an unknown side of the man that was never shown otherwise. When Daryl was conscious, he was constantly alert, body tense, ready to spring into action at any given moment. Now, Rick observed, that tension seemed to have disappeared entirely. Daryl was completely relaxed in Rick's arms, his muscles finally allowing themselves to loosen up in his state of blissful slumber. His breathing sounded as if it could have been timed to a metronome, slow and steady and never missing a beat. In this moment, Daryl exuded an air of serenity that Rick wasn't sure he was even capable of possessing while awake. And goddamnit, it was one of the most beautiful things the leader had ever seen.

As Rick had expected, this didn't last long. Just mere minutes after his own awakening, Daryl's cobalt eyes fluttered open, meeting Rick's almost instantly. Rick smiled down at his lover. "Morning, angel."

Daryl yawned quietly, closing his eyes once more and snuggling close to Rick. "Mornin'."

Rick reached up to run his fingers through Daryl's long, dark locks, pressing a kiss to his head. "It's late," he said. "I overslept, I think."

Daryl grunted in response. " _We_ did. Yeah, I know. It's brighter'n hell in here." He paused for a moment. "Don't we have work to do?"

"What, are you pissed at me for not waking you up?"

Daryl opened his eyes, looking up at Rick with a small smile that made the man's heart flutter; seeing his lover smile was a rare sight these days. "Furious," Daryl replied softly, reaching up to rest his hand on Rick's bare chest. He leaned in close, meeting Rick halfway where they pressed their lips together. The kiss was lazy and completely chaste at first, but their passion grew within it, their movements gradually becoming more deliberate as time went on.

At some point in time, Daryl pulled back, smiling faintly. "We should get out there soon," he said. "People need us, y'know?"

Slowly, Rick sat up in bed. "You're probably right," he said.

"I said _soon,_ Rick."

Rick stared up at Daryl in confusion for a long moment before finally understanding. He felt the heat rush to his cheeks, his heartbeat quickening. "Fuck," he whispered, "do we have time?"

Daryl smirked. "We got enough," he said, "now let's get to it."

Quite some time after that, the two left the house, sharing a knowing smile before parting ways. And when Michonne complained about Rick's late arrival, he could only smile like an idiot. Because in all honesty, he didn't care; it had been more than worth it.

_So fucking worth it._


	9. Day 9: Hugging

"You were right. You were right from the start. You told us to get ready to fight," Rick paused, gazing down at Maggie, eyes sincere. "I didn't listen. I couldn't...but I can now."

And then Rick saw it. Out of the corner of his eye, coming out from behind one of Hilltop's many run-down sheds, was none other than Daryl Dixon. Rick froze before Maggie, unable to suppress his gasp of disbelief. After a moment of stunned stillness, he stumbled forward, heading towards the hunter, the world fading around him as the distance between him and his beloved Daryl grew less and less.

When Rick finally came to a stop before the archer, he found himself shaking his head, eyes wide with incredulity as if he couldn't believe what was happening. Daryl was _back._ Was this real? Was Rick dreaming? Daryl nodded to him in a silent greeting, and not a second later, broke down sobbing. Rick wrapped his arms tight around the archer, tears rapidly forming in his own eyes and blurring his vision as he reached up and fisted his hand into the man's hair. He buried his face into Daryl's shoulder, embracing him long and hard, never wanting to let him go again.

_He's here,_ Rick thought to himself, heart pounding. _God, he's really here, he's okay, he's finally back._

It was Daryl who pulled away, seeming to have regained his composure, but Rick could still see the emotion behind his intense cobalt eyes. He watched in an almost trancelike state as the rest of the group approached Daryl to reunite with him at last. It had been too long. Too damn long.

But he was finally here.

And when Daryl turned back to Rick, gazing into each other's eyes had never seemed so familiar and meaningful. The archer reached behind him, and to Rick's disbelief, pulled out his Colt Python. Rick reached forward hesitantly, taking his gun from Daryl's outstretched hand, staring down at it as if the man had just handed him the universe. Rick looked to Daryl, tears still pricking his eyes. The silent look they shared seemed to say a thousand words. Words like _I'm okay,_  and _I'm here,_ and _I can't believe you're back._  But perhaps _I love you_ most of all.

_He's here,_ Rick thought again, the phrase repeating in his head like a mantra. God, it was too good to be true. Except it wasn't, because his Daryl was standing right here in front of him, more real than reality itself. And Rick wasn't planning on letting him go again.


End file.
